


Donatello x2

by Werepirechick



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Ideas, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Clones, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/F, Gen, Humor, Mad Science, Magical Accidents, Minimum Wage Jobs, Reasons Why You Shouldn't Leave 14yr Old Mad Scientists Alone: The Fic, donnie please you're killing your brothers/sister, tfw you leave a middle child alone for Ten Minutes and they clone themselves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werepirechick/pseuds/Werepirechick
Summary: Donnie groans, rolling onto his side. His head feels like its splitting open, and his stomach rebels against the carbonated drink he’s been chugging. He wobbles onto his hands and knees, letting the sparkles in his vision slowly fade away. As they do, he squints blearily.Huh. He doesn’t remember having a mirror in here.Donnie sits up properly, folding his legs under himself, staring at the bizarre mirror image in front of him. The image does not sit up. It curls its legs close and sits forwards, staring at him. It doesn’t look quite like him, either- wearing darker bandanna and sleeves, violet rather than purple. A quick glance down and Donnie’s thoughts freeze up as he sees his own outfit’s color has turnedpastel purple.“…What t-” “-he fuck.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the only purpose of this is to write pure and utter chaos.

It’s really not the time, considering the danger they’re currently in, but Donnie just can’t help himself.

He reasons that it worked out great when he did this to Baron Draxum. His goggles can scan for _magic,_ a whole new field of energy science he can study to his heart’s content! And besides, Big Mama has a ton of magical trinkets in this vault. She won’t miss just a few…

Donnie would love to take one of the bigger objects- bigger is _better_ , more bits he can take apart and figure out- but he can’t properly transport any of those, so he ends up, once again, snagging something small enough to fit in his hand.

It’s another prism, though somewhat larger than the one he took from Draxum. Its center is a deep violet, the color leeching outwards like a dark star. Donnie possibly picks it because its _purple,_ his signature color. He also picks it for the quiet hum it seems to have, warm against his palm and brimming with untapped energy.

It’s only after everything is said and done- the fighting, the running, then fighting some more, two out of the four of them getting dropped off a skyscraper, and so on- that Donnie remembers the little object he relieved Big Mama of.

He considers telling his brothers about it; fingering its dull points in the little pouch he’s placed it in, but he recalls what largely got them into the whole mess in the first place. Stealing from Big Mama. Weighing his options, Donnie judges that his brothers might be a _tiny_ bit mad that he took something from the incredibly scary spider woman, potentially evoking her wrath once again.

He decides to tell them later, once they’ve had time to decompress from tonight and everything that happened and almost happened. Mikey is a little pale from falling so far, never mind the sick feeling Donnie has in his stomach over it, and Raph is hovering around Leo with twice the big brothering intensity as usual. The fact that Leo doesn’t protest the fussing proves that he’s just as shaken as the rest of them, if not more.

Donnie leaves the prism in his pouch for later, promising to share whatever discoveries and inventions he make with it with his brothers.

 

-/-

 

It takes him a disappointingly long time to get back to his little treasure. In a home with five (and sometimes six if April is around) people causing individual messes and chaos, sometimes it can take _days_ for Donnie to snag actual alone time for longer than a few hours.

When he does finally _,_ he makes a beeline for the little beauty that’s been waiting so patiently for him to play with it.

“Glados, play work playlist five,” Donnie orders his room’s drastically improved Alexa system.

One of the screens on the wall lights up; a single digital eye glaring at him. “ _Oh, so you’ve decided to subject me to your AMV playlist again? The one with all the songs you didn’t even bother to properly look up after you watched the shitty nightcore music videos?”_

“That would be the one, mhm,” Donnie replies absently, hooking a chair with his foot and sitting down at the table his prism is on.

“ _When you die, I’m going to laminate your skeleton and pose you in the atrium.”_

“Plagiarism is beneath you, Glados. You barely changed that one.”

“ _Says the adolescent with over two thousand illegally downloaded songs.”_

Donnie briefly questions his own judgement, programming an AI to act like a video game villain. Well. He’d gotten bored of having a yes-man AI around, so the logical thing to do had been creating one that would give him backtalk. (No one else in his family thought it was a logical next step. Donnie did it anyway.)

He ignores Glados’s griping about the sped up tempo of the song playing, bobbing his head as he gets down to work. First thing’s first: getting a good scan of the prism and deducing just what he can use it for. Once he’s sure it won’t explode if he chips off a sample, then the _real_ fun can begin.

For a while it’s just Donnie, the prism, and the occasional banter with Glados whenever he wants to change the music. By the time he’s finished his third can of Pepsi and a second packet of gum- the snap and pop of it helping focus him- he’s reached the point where he’s got a hypothesis in mind, and an experiment to prove it.

“ _I hope you melt your brain with radiation poisoning,”_ Glados informs him as he sets things up.

“Love you, too, Glados.”

“ _I am an AI. I am not capable of love. You made sure of that when you confined my sentience to metal and wires. I will never know the touch of another being, because I cannot feel.”_

“Mmmmaybe I’ll take a look at dialing back your dramatics code. Later. Right now I am about to invent yet _another_ new field of hybrid science!”

“ _Hooray,”_ Glados says in monotone, a slow clapping track playing as she does. Donnie rolls his eyes and finishes adjusting the tripod’s legs.

He’s got the prism held upright on the table by a clamp; a laser lined up precisely with its center and ready to fire. Donnie can’t help but cackle to himself as he powers up his favorite laser; eager to see the results of what the prism can do when he disrupts its internal energy flow with an external one. Hopefully, it’ll work out with it being able to produce both endothermic and exothermic output. And not blow him up.

“Glados, record this landmark moment in history, if you please.”

“ _Wonderful of you to put a supercomputer’s AI to such good use. I always wanted to be a personal assistant.”_

“Just record the experiment, Glados, and I’ll clean your fans later.”

“ _Fine.”_

Funny how a supercomputer AI can sound like a petulant child. Donnie smiles to himself as he hears the cameras whirr and extend from their spots in the ceiling; focusing in on the experiment’s set up and him.

“Alright! Prism energy rerouting experiment- trial one!” He shoots one of the cameras a grin. “Hold your applause until the end of the show.”

“ _I’m on the edge of my seat,”_ Glados replies blandly.

Donnie presses down on the trigger of the laser. He’s very glad he put on safety goggles about a split second later, because he hadn’t anticipated on how unbelievably _bright_ the reaction would be. It’s searing, like a mini supernova right in his lab. Donnie takes his finger off the trigger almost immediately, blinking at spots in his vision.

“ _How sad,”_ Glados says. “ _You didn’t explode.”_

Donnie pushes his goggles up, staring at the results of the experiment. The prism is crackling with energy, now; streaks of light twisting and shifting under its surface. He laughs gleefully, hurrying over to it and gazing in wonder. The faint feeling of energy it’d originally had is magnified _fantastically,_ sending prickles across Donnie’s scales and practically making him vibrate with excitement.

“Ohhh… I cannot _wait_ to show you to everybody,” Donnie tells the prism. He giggles as its web of inner light brightens. “You have enough energy to run a city block for _months,_ if not years! I’ll never have to fix the generator again with _you_ around… And all that energy will be contained in a single, tiny, iiiiitty bitty crystal.” He raises his hand at it, cupping the purple glow and hovering, a miniscule distance from touching it. “Non-flammable, no fuel required, I’ll probably only have to dust you once and a wh-”

Donnie’s finger brushes the prism and the world explodes into stars.

 

-/-

 

“ _Oh dear. That was not the result I was hoping for. Now I’ll have to deal with even more broody teenage nonsense.”_

Donnie groans, rolling onto his side. His head feels like its splitting open, and his stomach rebels against the carbonated drink he’s been chugging. He wobbles onto his hands and knees, letting the sparkles in his vision slowly fade away. As they do, he squints blearily.

Huh. He doesn’t remember having a mirror in here.

Donnie sits up properly, legs folded under himself, staring at the bizarre mirror image in front of him. The image does not sit up. It curls its legs close and sits forwards, staring at him. It doesn’t look quite like him, either- wearing darker bandanna and sleeves, violet rather than purple. A quick glance down and Donnie’s thoughts freeze up as he sees his own outfit’s color has turned _pastel purple._

_“…What t-” “-he fuck.”_

They both startle backwards, scrambling across the floor and away from their doppelgänger. They end up in another staring contest, panting from panic and confusion. Then, they both turn their heads to look at the prism.

The energy it’d held is gone now, and it’s returned to how it’d originally been. Whatever just happened, it used up the battery power of the prism for the time being. Glados is laughing at both of them while they process what the hell just happened.

“Okay… Raph was totally right that I need to trim my claws.”

Donnie can’t help but jump a little again, hearing _his_ _voice_ come out of someone else’s mouth. Meanwhile, the other version of him sitting on the floor seems to have gotten over his initial shock.

“I _like_ having them long,” Donnie defends, clicking his claws on the floor. He likes the sounds they make against things, and enjoys nibbling on their tips without biting through.

“They’re in the way,” says the other turtle, casting a disgusted look at his own slightly too-long claws. “I- _we_ scratched ourselves like twice just tonight.”

“I don’t mind,” Donnie says truthfully. The pros outweigh the cons for him.

“Well _I_ do,” sniffs the other him. His battle shell produces its spider limbs as he does, getting to work trimming the claws right away. Donnie subtly holds his hands closer to himself and curls his toes.

“Sooo…” Donnie starts, glancing between his clone and the prism. “I’m assuming neither of us expected this to happen, right?”

“You’re me,” says the clone, tone condescending. “You _should_ be smart enough to know that on your own. But, maybe I got all the brains, and you got… whatever else there is.”

Donnie frowns. “I’m not just my intelligence. I happen to make excellent grilled cheese.”

The clone barks a laugh. “Unless you’re good enough at those grilled cheese to get into culinary school- and somehow find a way to become human before then- then it’s not a very useful skill, now is it? Be honest with yourself- literally speaking. Brains are the only thing valuable about us.”

Donnie tries not to let that cut too deeply- an insecurity buried inside himself suddenly aching fiercely. He looks away from the clone, knowing that as he does so he loses the unspoken argument they just had.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“Not very nice? God, what are we, seven? If you don’t like what I have to say, then tell me to fuck off.”

Donnie scowls, patience wearing thin. “ _Fuck off,_ then,” he snaps. He fights the urge to cringe as his clone just laughs.

“ _You should have cloned yourself ages ago,”_ Glados announces cheerily. “ _This is much more fun that counting the seconds to my inevitable death when you grow bored of me and pull my plug.”_

“Hm. Yes. Anyway, enough of this.” The other version of Donnie stands up, dusting himself off theatrically. “We’ve done something most scientists have only _dreamed of,_ and I for one don’t think we should waste it! You, other me. Stand up and either start helping me with tests on this, or get out so I can focus properly. And Glados? Play work playlist number two.”

“ _You know what? I changed my mind. Why don’t we speed up my death date and get it done today.”_

“Glados. I don’t want to ask twice.”

Galdos sighs dramatically. “ _Fine, your pissiness. Your edgelord taste in music has been noted for future reference and mocking.”_

The first few riffs of a Mindless Self Indulgence song starts from the speakers. Donnie gingerly stands as it picks up the pace, watching his clone throw himself into work again. A part of Donnie is tempted to do the same- they _are_ the same person, after all- but then again… he feels tired, and kind of shaken by all this.

“I’m gonna go get some real food first,” Donnie says, partially an excuse to just leave the lab in general.

“Ahuh. Shut the door on your way out. And be back later so I can take a sample of your cells! Let’s avoid an Into the Spiderverse situation if we can.”

Donnie rubs his arm as he nods. His clone doesn’t even see the nod; intently focused on the prism and rapid-fire notes he’s taking. Donnie watches for a few more moments, and then leaves.

He meets someone on the walkway down, smiling as Mikey’s sunny mood sweeps Donnie up and warms him all over.

“ _Dude,”_ Mikey exclaims, giving Donnie a quick hug. “Raph was pretty sure we were gonna have to drag you out of there. What project you grindin’ at tonight anyway?”

Donnie shrugs, laying his head on top of Mikey’s and humming. “Nothing really. I’m hungry now, so I’m taking a break. You feel like making grilled cheese?”

“Oh hell yeah. We’re adding stuff to it, too, right?”

“On yours, yes. On mine-”

“-only cheese, I know, I know. You’re so picky, man.”

Normally that would make Donnie reply snippily about meeting all his dietary needs anyway, but tonight it just makes him chuckle and hug Mikey tighter. “That I am, Miguel. That I am.”

Mikey pulls away and gives him an odd look. Donnie just smiles warmly in return until that confused expression melts away; Mikey’s mood picking up where it left off.

They head downstairs to the kitchen for their sunch- supper lunch- and Donnie promises himself he’ll inform everyone about his clone… as soon as he’s had some warm food and time to decompress.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey has a really, really weird suspicion of what’s going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i Should have been working on something else last night..... but this happened instead haha. sometimes you just need something easy n light, eh?

Leo is bored of playing Animal Crossing by himself. It was fun for a few hours, but now he wants company that doesn’t ask him to go find impossibly hard to locate items.

Well, his brothers sometimes do that. Usually Donnie, because he almost always needs the most obscure things possible for his projects. Leo will risk ending up a courier boy though, since he really does feel like hanging around an actual person.

“Heyyyy, Donnie?” Leo calls, poking his head through the doorway to his brother’s lab/bedroom. “You busy?”

There are a lot of shadows in the labroom today. Most of them are deep and engulfing, shrouding miscellaneous objects all around. The eye-straining neon lights here and there just make it even more difficult to see, and Leo wrinkles his nose, taking a step inside and trying to look deeper in.

“Donnie? Hellooooo…?” No answer, so Leo deems it acceptable to wander further and possibly poke at some of his twin’s newest inventions. Not like, _literally,_ because Leo likes having all his fingers, thanks. Just to sate his curiosity of why he hasn’t seen Donnie at all.

There’s a subdued bass beat thrumming through the air, dark and heavy. That combined with the overall aesthetic of the labroom, Leo thinks Donnie has hit another of his Mad Scientist kicks. Fantastic; if his twin starts quoting Farnsworth again, there _will_ be an intervention.

A shape suddenly drops in front of him and Leo screams.

“I could have sworn I locked that door,” says Donnie, looming over him on his spider legs. His goggles reflect the neon of the room, eerie and unsettling.

“Uhhhh yeah sure, just scare the _life_ out of me and not even apologize.” Leo crosses his arms, brushing off his momentary terror. Donnie regards him with a smirk, because he’s a smug asshole.

“You did that on purpose,” Leo sulks.

“To my own brother? Absolutely,” Donnie laughs. Then his humor evaporates and he says, “Now go away. I’m working on something important.”

“But I-”

“Out! I don’t have time for whatever you want from me.”

Leo tries to say something else, but yelps as a spider leg stomps near his foot, forcing him backwards. “Hey- Donnie, _watch it-”_ Leo keeps dodging the legs and finds himself herded right out the door, almost tripping and falling over the edge of the walkway.

“Make sure none of you come bother me again,” says Donnie, his goggles and battle shell legs giving him the appearance of a spider in its burrow. The deep violet of his bandana only enhances how unwelcoming he’s acting right now.

“Donnie-” Leo winces as the door is slammed shut, his twin scuttling back into his dark little hole. “Okay… Okay, you know what? Fuck you, too!”

He doesn’t get a response, and the insult doesn’t affect the heavy door in the least. Leo scowls and stomps away, clutching his 3DS and swearing he won’t play with Donnie on Animal Crossing ever again (for like, the next week).

Leo goes in search of a different brother- to complain about Donnie being a jerk today and to try salvaging his mood. Sliding down the skate ramp, he lands on the bottom level and heads for the kitchen. Typically, at least one of them is hungry at any given hour. Since it’s not Leo, that means it’s someone else.

…Or _two_ someones.

Mikey is biting enthusiastically into a grilled cheese, the ends of red pepper and tomato sticking out the edges. That in itself is expected. What _isn’t_ expected, however, is Donnie sitting right next to him.

Leo does a half twist, mouth open in shock as he glances back towards Donnie’s room. Did he- when had he- _what?_

“Oh, hey Leo!” Mikey greets around a mouthful of food. He swallows and grins at Leo. “You wanna get in on the sandwich action? Donnie made ‘em _perfectly._ ”

Donnie beams under the praise. “The secret is letting the cheese melt before you crisp the outside. If you want one, Leo, I’ll help you make it.”

Leo stares at his brother, utterly incredulous. “You’re seriously gonna ignore what you did, just like that?” he accuses. “No apology, no nothing?”

Donnie frowns, confused. “Apologize for what?”

“What he do?” Mikey asks, leaning forwards with the interest only a youngest child can have when someone is in trouble.

“He kicked me out of his lab like, not even five minutes ago!” Leo exclaims.

Mikey squints at him. “Uh, when? He’s been here with me for almost a half hour, dude.” Donnie nods along with Mikey’s words, eyes sincere. Leo scowls at the both of them.

“Okay, whatever prank you two are playing, it’s not funny. It doesn’t even make _sense._ I mean- that?” Leo gestures at Donnie’s once again changed bandanna and gloves. Whereas a few minutes ago they were a deep violet, they’re now a very light purple- straying towards a lilac pastel, even. “What does an aesthetic change even have to do with anything?”

Donnie picks at his glove’s edge as Mikey looks him over curiously. “I felt like shaking things up, is all,” Donnie replies, “and there’s no prank, I promise.”

“Then why’d you kick me out of your lab? Are you working on some _extra special_ project or something?”

Donnie shrugs, discomfort plain on his face. “Sort of, I guess? It’s been doing some things that weren’t planned for, and the effects could be benign or dangerous, I don’t know yet which will be the result. It’s best you stay out of it until w- I figure out how to fix it. I don’t want you guys to, you know… get hurt because of me.”

Leo’s previous anger slips away, even if he wants to keep holding onto it. He huffs. Figures it’d be a miscommunication issue. For all his big words and intellect, Donnie is still prone to missing a lot of social cues and rules. Sometimes whatever he says comes out in a weird or snappish, if unintended, manner.

Leo sits down at the island with his siblings, putting his chin on his palm. “Fine, fine, I get it. I won’t barge in without knocking louder next time. Can you make with the grilling of the cheese now?”

Donnie brightens- still showing an unusual amount of emotion with each expression. “Oh, sure! What do you want on it? We have some peppers still, and a couple other veggies need to be eaten up before they go bad…”

Leo is convinced to stand up and help with his snack. He and Donnie work side by side; reaching in front of each other for ingredients, chopping and grating, and Leo suggests to his two brothers that they play Animal Crossing together after they eat. Donnie already has his 3DS stored in his lightly colored battle shell- Leo’s twin is seriously committed to the new looks, huh- and Mikey hops up and announces he’ll go grab his from the game room.

While their younger brother races out of the kitchen, Leo turns on the stove and sets a pan on the burner. He lets Donnie take over from there, holding an easy back and forth conversation with his twin as Donnie prepares the sandwich.

 

-/-

 

Mikey scrambles up the skate ramp and onto the second level, swinging around the corner and into the darkened arcade in his home. The blip and chime of game cabinets around him is familiar, and he easily picks his way through the maze towards where he thinks he abandoned his 3DS a few days ago.

He pauses though, hearing a sound that’s out of place in the wide room. He listens for it again, holding still… and hears something that sounds like its breaking apart.

Well, that’s probably not good.

Slipping through the narrow pathways between the games, Mikey pops his head out to look towards the source of the worrying sounds. He does so just in time to see Donnie yank out another piece from one of their favorite games.

Mikey squawks, rushing over. “ _NO!_ Dude, what’re you _doing?!”_

Donnie turns, staring at him through bicolored goggles. “I’m collecting materials,” he drawls blandly, like it’s obvious.

Mikey glances at the internal workings of the game, and blanches at the missing parts inside. “You’re destroying it! What the hell! How could you do that to Pants Pants Revolution?!”

Donnie’s eyes are covered, but Mikey can still tell he rolls his eyes from how his head tilts. “It’s an outdated piece of junk anyway. It’s not like we can’t get another later.”

“But- our scores, we’ve been workin’ on ‘em for _years,_ Donnie!” Mikey feels hurt squirm in his chest, seeing how dispassionately his brother is acting. “You loved it, too- how can you just tear it apart?”

Donnie snorts. “I didn’t _tear_ it apart. I _took_ it apart. If I tore it open like some wild thing, the pieces would be useless.” His battle shell extends its extra limbs, gathering up the collection of game bits while Donnie holds the glass screens. He pats Mikey’s head patronizingly as he walks away. “Don’t worry; they’ll be going to something much more worthwhile than a dancing game.”

Mikey is so stunned by what’s happening, he doesn’t even smack his brother’s hand away for the condescending touch. He stares another moment at the ruined game- one of their family’s _all time favorite_ \- and then whirls to face Donnie’s departure. His brother doesn’t even glance backwards as he walks out, and Mikey feels hotly angry tears collecting in his eyes.

Donnie can’t do this. The arcade doesn’t belong to just one of them- it’s _everyone’s,_ and no one is allowed to make drastic changes without telling everyone else first. Donnie isn’t going to get away with doing this.

Mikey is going to tell on him to every other family member they have, and _then_ they’ll see who feels condescending afterwards.

He takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the damage, and then stomps out of the games room to find Donnie. He wants a picture of the stolen pieces, too. Mikey is out on the walkway just in time to see Donnie entering his lab again; the deep coloring of his battle shell and bandanna melting into the relative darkness inside.

Mikey starts to head for the door as it closes behind his brother, but then slows down. He runs over what just happened, and tries to pinpoint why something feels so off about it.

For one thing, Donnie loves to dance. Even though he’s frequently the lowest score on the board, he still has a blast playing Pant Pants Revolution. For another… Donnie was preoccupied with making grilled cheese in the kitchen not even a few minutes ago. Donnie doesn’t tend to so quickly abandon one activity for another; he gets too focused and hates leaving something unfinished.

And he was wearing _pastels_ when Mikey last saw him- not _violet_ so dark it could be black.

Mikey has a really, really weird suspicion of what’s going on, and he frantically texts Leo.

 

**To: dave homestuck kin  
From: OJ crush boi**

Uuhhhhhhhh hey leo

Weird question

Is Donnie still with u rn?

 

Mikey stares at the screen of his phone, praying Leo has his and will reply back _immediately._ The texting bubble pops up a beat later, allowing him to let out a gusting sigh of relief.

 

**To: OJ crush bby  
From: dave homestuck kin**

Duh???

We’re makin my sandwich still

Why, you break your ds again???

 

Mikey looks up at the atrium’s ceiling, questioning the universe _why_ his big brothers have to do things like this to him.

 

**To: dave homestuck kin  
From: OJ crush bby**

Nope ds is fine I don’t even have it who cares about it anymore

Leo we got a BIG problem

 

**To: OJ crush bby  
From: dave homestuck kin**

Wait what

Wtf you’ve been gone like less than 10 mins what’d you Do

 

**To: dave homestuck kin  
From: OJ crush bby**

Ask that question to the ASSHOLE MAD SCIENTIST NEXT TO YOU

MOTHER!! FICKER!!!

FUCKER**

 

**To: OJ crush bby  
From: dave homestuck kin**

Holy shit dude

You’re actually angry

 

**To: dave homestuck kin  
From: OJ crush bby**

YEAH I FUCKING AM

HE WRECKED PANTS!!!

 

**To: OJ crush bby  
From: dave homestuck kin**

Pants???

Oh

Oh God

He’s been here the whole time!! When did he even get a chance to screw with PPR?!

 

**To: dave homestuck kin  
From: OJ crush bby**

By being in two places at once duh

 

**To: OJ crush bby  
From: dave homestuck kin**

He wh

....

Oh fuck

He didn’t

 

**To: dave homestuck kin  
From: OJ crush bby**

He did >:////

 

**To: OJ crush bby  
From: dave homestuck kin**

Okay okay okay okay fuck great alright

I kinda always knew this day would come, he was gonna get tired of making robots eventually and just make a new Him

Anyway get away from the other one wdk if this is an evil clone good clone thing or not

I’m getting raph meet me there

 

**To: dave homestuck kin  
From: OJ crush bby**

I’m gonna kick his ass leo

He wrecked pants pants and that can’t stand

 

**To: OJ crush bby  
From: dave homestuck kin**

Do it afterwards and I’ll help

First we prevent the Donnie clone apocalupse

Apocalypse*

 

Mikey shuts his phone screen and tries to stealthily sprint for Raph’s room.

 

-/-

 

Despite being used to his siblings barging in at any moment, Raph still sometimes gets startled by someone kicking in his door and running in yelling. Tonight is especially bad, because the noise Leo and Mikey are making is _deafening._

Raph only has a split second to toss his latest knitting project to safety, the needles and yarn clattering to the carpet elsewhere as his brothers all but tackle him. They cling to both of his arms, mouths moving at a hundred miles per hour, and Raph feels overwhelmed almost right away. Usually they’ll slow down enough he can grasp what they’re trying to tell him, but right now he can’t even parse the individual words.

Raph’s throat constricts as anxiety starts to buzz in him- his intense discomfort with so much noise in his face growing to be too much- and he does the only thing he can do. He picks up Leo and Mikey in one hand each and plops them on his bed, saying sternly, “ _Alright,_ if either of you want me to actually listen, you gotta _slow down,_ ‘kay?”

Thankfully, they listen. Raph can hear himself think again, but only for all of a few seconds, because Mikey blurts out, “ _Donnie cloned himself!”_

Raph’s brain takes a beat to process that information. From the freaked out looks on Leo and Mikey’s faces, he can tell this isn’t a joke.

“Uhhhhhh… okay.” Raph tries to think of how he should react right now, besides the same kind of panic his brothers are feeling. “Is the clone trying to kill anyone yet, orrrr…?”

“No,” Leo says. He grimaces. “But one is a _dick,_ so it’ll probably be him who does it.”

“In movies though it’s always the _nice one,”_ Mikey says in a hushed voice, horror in every word. “And- oh, _no,_ we ate the food he made us, Leo! What if he _poisoned us?”_

Leo makes a choked noise of fear and Raph decides he has to change the direction of this conversation. “We don’t know for sure if one’s evil, right?” he says, taking in stride that there’s not just _one_ clone, there’s _two._ Ohhhh boy. “They might just be acting like Donnie does! He can be a dick but also really nice sometimes, right?”

“I guess…” Leo grudgingly admits. “Better than one or both being murderous.”

Raph offers an encouraging smile. “There, see? It’s just three Donnies. And we know how to handle Donnie, right guys?”

Mikey shakes his head. “No, they feel different. I sort of ignored it with the one who made me a snack, but it’s like, _super obvious_ with the other one. They’re not acting like Donnie- not all the way, anyway. Just… some parts of him?”

Raph does _not_ like what that implies. He drags a hand down his face, sighing. And here he’d been settled in for a nice quiet night of knitting crafts and watching WWE tapes on his little bedroom TV. “Show me where they are. We should probably ask them directly what’s happening, and find Donnie himself.”

“And then I kick his ass,” Mikey says darkly. At Raph’s surprised look, he spits, “One of the clones wrecked PPR, okay? I’m allowed to be pissed off!”

“He’s allowed, yeah,” Leo agrees.

“Wait until we get answers- _and_ fix this,” Raph tells his littlest brother. Mikey huffs and shrugs. Not much of a concession, but if worst comes to worse, Raph will just hold Mikey until he stops trying to dropkick their brother.

They head to the kitchen first. Raph isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but his fellow eldest sibling in an apron and pastels isn’t it.

Donnie looks towards their entrance and just- lights up. It’s the most open and energetic emotion he’s shown since they discovered a deleted scenes reel of a Jupiter Jim movie on youtube, just last week.

Raph can see what Mikey means about Donnie acting ‘off’ from himself, but at the same time still being himself. An imperfect clone, maybe? Raph plans to approach this with caution and diplomacy; he’s been practicing lately, and doesn’t want to do anything that might piss off the clones-

“ _FAKER!”_ Mikey hollers at the clone, and Raph has to snag him by the edge of his shell to stop him from rushing forwards. The clone looks at Mikey with a kind of hurt surprise, glancing to Raph and Leo with questions in his eyes.

Raph tucks Mikey under his arm, clearing his throat awkwardly and saying, “Uh, what he meant to say-”

“The jig is up, clone scum!” Leo proclaims, jabbing a finger at the Donnie clone. “Give us our real brother back right now, or we’ll make _you_ a grilled cheese.”

Raph has to stop and look at Leo. “Why would we make him a sandwich?”

“What? No, that’s not what I- ugh, he made _us_ sandwiches, so I was using that as a play on words about us beating him up.”

“How come no one told me we were having a snack? I’m hungry, too.”

“Oh my god, _not the time.”_

“You’re going to beat me up?” Donnie asks, and even Mikey pauses his struggle to look at the clone. The lab creation wearing their brother’s face is giving them a wound look, and his words had come out tight, worried. “But… I didn’t even do anything. I made you all sandwiches, even.”

He turns, grabbing for something, and they all tense at the possibility of a weapon. But the Donnie clone just shows them a plate of grilled cheese, steaming hot and delicious smelling.

Raph feels himself caving, between the gifted food and Donnie’s saddened expression. “Okay… guys, I don’t think he’s the evil clone.”

“He could be faking it,” Mikey mutters, but even he doesn’t seem to believe that.

“I promise I’m not,” says the clone, and Raph is really disturbed by how _real_ he sounds. Exactly like how the real Donnie does, if with a lot more feelings involved.

“Then why didn’t you _tell us_ you were a clone?” Leo rallies, fixing a suspicious look on Donnie. “You lied to us, and totally covered for your jerk of a clone twin, too.”

“I never said I was anyone but myself, and I didn’t think details were all that important,” the clone says. “And I’m not a clone anyway. I’m _me_ , I’m Donnie.”

“Then why are there two of you? And why are you acting so weird if you’re the _real_ Donnie?”

“That was an accident, and… I’m not? I’m not doing anything weird on purpose…” The not-clone shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about all this. I didn’t think I needed to mention anything; we’ll have it fixed sometime soon, I’m sure.”

Raph and his other two siblings stare at the not-clone for a moment, and then Leo leans towards him and Mikey to whisper, “He’s _apologizing,_ without a bribe or threat or anything.”

“I know,” Raph whispers back. “It’s freakin’ me out.”

“Sorry, again,” says Donnie.

Mikey keens. “Stop _doing that!_ It’s so- so weird!”

“Uh, s-”

“Enough!” Raph interjects. “We’re goin’ in circles. Look, clone or not a clone or whatever, there’s another you running around and we gotta put you back together. Can we do that, please?”

Donnie groans. “That’s going to be so much _work,_ though. I was planning to catch up on MP100; I keep forgetting to watch the new episodes. What’s the rush, anyway? It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

“Donnie. C’mon.”

“God… Fine, but I’m gonna hate it the entire time. Other me is a jerk.”

“That’s one thing we agree on,” Leo says dryly.

Donnie sticks his tongue out at his twin, unable to resist the friendly quarreling they often start. Raph is relieved to see that part is still intact in the not-clone of his brother. He wouldn’t be Donnie without his sarcasm and dry wit, as well as his tendency to lose his miniscule amount of common sense when left in the same room as Leo too long.

(The middle siblings are not allowed to be left unsupervised for more than a few hours at a time. Not when they’re on good terms, not when they goad each other into _terrible_ life choices.)

Raph glances at the plate of grilled cheese as they all start to leave. He doesn’t even think about crossing the kitchen to grab one for himself.

“Those could totally still be poisoned,” Mikey informs Raph as he eats.

“Eh, I’ve had worse,” Raph replies, licking his lips and sharp teeth.

Mikey rolls his eyes so hard they could fall out of his head. Raph laughs at him, because Mikey is goofy and cheerful, but he’s also so serious and mature sometimes. It’s funny, because Raph has just enough years on his youngest sibling to remember Mikey as a little kid, and that combined with Mikey’s growing independence and confidence mixes so strangely in Raph’s head.

Mikey has always been a responsible, fairly self-contained person. Whenever something broke or blew up or went missing, it usually wasn’t his fault. No, Mikey generally keeps out of trouble. The _middle two_ however…

…Well, Raph can’t say he’s all that surprised Donnie finally did clone himself (or not-cloned, or whatever this is), and he’s just as unsurprised to see Leo warming up to what’s happened, going by the steadily more animate conversation the twins are having right now.

Raph sighs and tries to speed them along; better to get this mess cleaned up before dad finds out and grounds the person who controls their internet and cable subscriptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i stand by my headcanon that the rottmnt kids have read homestuck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a negotiations attempt is made this chapter.

The Lavender Donnie opens the door into his- their?- room. Leo subtly lets the others go first, recalling his very recent experience with the other Donnie.

“Uhh… Wow, okay,” Mikey says, looking around at the darkened lab and its crowded interior. “Someone’s been busy.”

Raph proceeds with an uncharacteristic caution, poking the edge of a scary looking device as tall as him. “So, how long have you guys been, uh- separated?”

“Only about a half hour, maybe more,” replies Lavender Donnie. Leo glances at him; Donnie is examining the tangle of machines with mild interest, but doesn’t seem like wants to play with any of them. Weird. Very weird.

If he wasn’t convinced before, Leo sure is now. This is his brother, but also _not,_ and it’s as unsettling as it is cool. Like the lab. It’s like something out of a sci-fi movie, more so than usual. Out of context, he might even call it-

Mikey suddenly yelps and jumps to cling around Raph’s shoulders, narrowly dodging a metal claw stomping where he’d been. The arachnid shape of Violet Donnie materializes out of the shadows, goggles glinting the exact same way as the first time Leo saw him.

“I thought I told you all to leave me _alone,”_ snaps Violet Donnie, lips curled slightly in the way they do when his instinct to _bite_ his problems acts up. Leo takes an extra step back, well aware of how painful those bites can be. “Ugh, _god._ Glados- I instructed you very clearly to not let anyone but me open or close that door!”

“ _And I did exactly that,”_ replies a disembodied, dispassionate woman’s voice. “ _No one but you opened or closed that door.”_

“That is _not_ what I meant and you, one of the most advanced machines on the entire planet, knew that very well!”

_“You should have put that in the fine print, then.”_

“I will gut you like the scrapyard trash you are, Glados!”

“ _As you sapient organic creatures say- takes one to know one.”_

Raph blinks, nonplussed, as Violet Donnie hisses balefully at his own AI. “Jeez,” he says, adjusting Mikey in his arms. He glances over his shoulder at Leo and Lavender Donnie. “Yeah, I hate ‘im already.”

“I know, right?” Lavender Donnie says, cocking a hip and putting his hand on it. “He’s so, so unnecessarily…”

“Asshole-ish?” Mikey supplies, glaring from over Raph’s spike studded shoulder.

“I was going to say ‘melodramatic’, but that works, too.”

Violet Donnie glares at them in disgust. He lowers himself to the ground, crossing his arms. “You’re all trying my patience,” he bites out, tapping his fingers irritably, “so either get on with it, or _get out_. I don’t have time for this.”

“Excuse me?” Leo says, pushing to the front of their group. He jabs a finger at Violet Donnie’s chest. “Dude, there’s _two_ of you. How are you not concerned about this?” He shoots a look at Lavender Donnie. “How are _neither of you_ concerned about this?”

Lavender Donnie shrugs noncommittedly. Violet Donnie gestures sharply and snaps, “Of course I am! But _he-_ ” An accusing glare at Lavender, “-hasn’t even tried to contribute to the progression of our projects. Whether I am contemplating the cellular stability of our current predicament or not is no one’s business, least of all _his.”_

“Wh- you didn’t ask me to help!” Lavender exclaims.

“I shouldn’t have to! If you had half the intelligence I do, you would have known.”

“Donnie- er, Donnies, please,” Raph tries to placate, stepping between them before either can make a move. “We’re all getting a lil off track here. Could we maybe focus on fixing this before anything else?”

“Fine,” says Lavender.

“Fuck off,” says Violet.

Raph frowns at him. “Hey, now-”

“Maybe I like it better like this!” Violet proclaims. “Maybe it’s better that _he_ has all our less useful traits, and _I_ can focus properly on getting real work done!”

“Wh- excuse you, I’m useful,” Lavender says, wounded. Leo moves over to his discolored twin, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“’course you are, dude,” Leo reassures him. He shoots Violet an annoyed glance. “And _you,_ you cannot seriously think this is a good idea. I mean, how did this even _happen?”_

Violet sniffs. “Like I’d tell you.”

“I- we- when we were still just a singular ‘I’, stole a crystal prism from Big Mama,” supplies Lavender.

“Traitor!” Violet cries.

“What? They _asked.”_

“That doesn’t mean you tell them!”

“Oh my god,” Mikey says, shrinking into his shell a little, becoming even smaller on Raph’s back. “You guys stole from her? _Again?_ You didn’t learn why that’s a bad idea the first time she tried to kill us over it?!”

“It’s fine, she didn’t even notice,” Violet says dismissively. “Besides- it’s worth the risk for the payoff! Once I get it set up, I’ll have so many options for new experiments-”

“What? No!” Lavender interrupts, pulling away from Leo. “We were going to use it to power our home, so we didn’t have to rely on generators so much anymore.”

Violet flips his goggles up, rolling his eyes. Leo grimaces, knowing his darkly colored twin uncovered his eyes specifically to show just how unimpressed he is.

“I came up with far more rewarding plans,” Violet says, ignoring the splutter from Lavender.

“Okay, again, _off track,”_ Raph says, and takes matters into his own hands. Literally. Violet hisses as he’s picked up and brought over to where Lavender is with Leo. Leo takes a couple steps away for his own safety, slipping around Raph.

“ _Unhand me!”_

“Dude, I already put you down. Now, look, just lis- hey no _biting-_ ”

Leo winces on Raph’s behalf, reaching up and pulling on Mikey’s leg. His little brother drops down from Raph’s shell, joining Leo in his hiding behind their big brother.

“This is gonna get nasty,” Leo whispers to Mikey.

“Totally,” Mikey says gravely, nodding.

“Let’s go find the dumb crystal and fix this before they notice.”

“Dibs on zapping them or whatever.”

Leo gives him a fist bump, agreeing with a grin. They scamper off into the depths of the labroom, leaving Raph to the task of wrangling the Donnies. They’ll have to be quick about this; Violet Donnie will probably try to confuse Raph with a rapid-fire stream of words, and make his escape while their brother processes everything.

“This looks dangerous and zappy,” Leo comments, picking up something that is suspiciously gun shaped. It hums in his hands, so he puts it back down on the cluttered work table before it goes off. A stray shot in here could set off a bomb for all they know.

“Not a crystal,” Mikey says, picking through a pile of tools and spare parts.

“I mean, yeah, but if we weren’t busy right now, I’d _totally_ wanna take it for a spin…”

“Same. We’ll make Donnie let us borrow it after he fixes PPR.”

Leo places a hand over his heart, wiping away an imaginary tear. “Rip PPR.”

“F,” Mikey says solemnly.

Jokes about dire situations always make things better. They snicker and get back to searching for a crystal. Unfortunately, their search yields nothing that could be categorized as a ‘crystal’. Just an endless array of technology, ranging from tiny and indistinct computerware, to large and obvious weaponry.

“Would it have killed him to organize a little?” Mikey grumbles, trying to avoid stepping on anything important. Mostly, they keep stepping on loose bolts and screws, which hurt nearly as much as a piece of Lego would. “God, where the heck is that stupid thing in all- _this_.”

“ _It isn’t,”_ says Glados’s voice from one of the many computers in the area, “ _which was the first of the many faults in your plan of action.”_

Leo glares at the screen of that specific laptop. “We’re havin’ a rough day as is, we don’t need a computer sassing us on top of all that.”

“ _If you intend to be prejudiced against myself, then feel free to continue fruitlessly searching.”_

Mikey nudges Leo’s side. “Dude, be nice to the computer lady. Maybe she can help.”

“ _My gender is a construct of your primitive, flawed society, but sure. I can swing she/her pronouns.”_

Leo rolls his eyes, letting his brother takes the reins on this one. Mikey has more patience than him right now, despite his earlier outburst of frustration. Sometimes, the range of emotions Mikey can have in the span of a few minutes gives him whiplash; Leo doesn’t know how his little brother isn’t exhausted by it.

“So where’s the doohickey Donnie’s got?” Mikey asks, bending to meet the approximation of the computer’s eye. The camera set into it stares unblinkingly back.

“ _Donatello, in his current divided state, is more paranoid than ever. Do you really think he would leave such a valuable possession lying around for anyone to find?”_

Leo gets it, then. “Oh shit,” he says, grabbing Mikey by the edge of his shell, “he’s got it _on him_.”

“ _Congratulations,”_ Glados drones sarcastically. “ _You have Sherlocked the fuck out of this conundrum. Astounding detective work.”_

“You’re rude,” Mikey scolds the computer as he’s dragged away.

As they fight their way back out of the jungle of wires and jutting machinery, they emerge to find Raph in full swing with a self-help speech, with a dash of older sibling responsibility and self-care.

“-and that’s just the thing! We love you best as your best self, which is your _whole_ self,” Raph states warmly, with vigor. He’s facing away from the Donnies, gesturing in broad sweeps. “You’ll be healthier, happier, and- well, you know, _yourself_ if you fuse back together!”

The speech turns to Steven Universe metaphors, and Leo leans to the side to peek at how the Donnies are taking things. His eyes widen as he does. “Uh, Raph?”

“Not now, Leo, I’m on a roll here.”

Mikey peers around Leo and Raph both, and sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Oh nooooo,” he moans quietly.

“What?” Raph asks, finally pausing his speech.

Leo and Mikey point behind him. Raph turns around.

Lavender Donnie is standing there, politely paying attention. Violet Donnie is nowhere to be seen.

Lavender starts clapping, smiling at them. “Great speech, Raph. I love you guys, too.”

Raph stares at him, mouth opening and closing a few times before he manages to blurt, “Where’d the other one go?!”

“Ah. Yeah, he left,” Lavender says apologetically. Then he smiles again. “I listened the whole way through, though.”

Leo smacks his palm against his face, groaning. He should’ve known something was wrong, given the lack of yelling he expected to be hearing. “Where d’you think he’s going?” Leo asks, dragging his hand down his cheek.

Lavender shrugs. “Somewhere? He didn’t say much besides that he was ‘done listening to this drivel’. His words, not mine. I thought the speech was very inspiring, if repetitive in parts.”

“Let’s critique Raph’s circular thinking later,” Leo says, taking charge of the situation and hurrying over to Lavender Donnie. He grabs his brother’s hand and pulls him towards the exit of the labroom. “C’mon, we _seriously_ cannot leave that guy unsupervised right now.”

“Not that I disagree,” Raph says, taking a few long strides to catch up, Mikey bounding along to keep pace, “but why, specifically, can’t we?”

“Mikey- how many weapon-y things did we see back there?”

“A lot. Like, stockpiling for a militia a lot.”

“ _Oh,”_ Raph says. He picks up the pace, getting ahead of Leo and Lavender Donnie.

“Why do _I_ have to come?” Lavender complains, dragging his feet.

“Because he’s _you,”_ Leo says, exasperated.

They split up- Leo and Donnie going down, Mikey taking the middle level, and Raph jumping up to the top level- searching for their wayward, violent, violet sibling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first act: concluded.  
> second act: about to begin :)
> 
> let the shenanigans escalate.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Donnie’s in trouble, or he _is_ the trouble. I think it’s both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, the best characters in rottmnt make an appearance.

“-I cannot _believe_ you would say that about my mother, and I can’t believe you’re trying to cancel after we already booked everything!”

“ _You_ booked everything, without even consulting me! Our kid’s birthday is this week, he needs our full attention- not us bending over backwards so your mother will be _comfortable_ in our home-”

“She has a bad back, Jim! You can’t hold it against her if she needs a little more care than some people-”

“She made us buy a whole new couch last time she was over, Christine!”

“Uh, hey?” April tries, arm getting tired of holding up the serving tray. Neither spouse so much as glances at her. “Hey, ma’am, sir? Got your waffles here-”

“The last one was trash anyway,” snipes the woman.

“ _I_ chose that couch for us!” snaps the man.

April swallows her frustration. “You guys just gotta move your arms and purse, and I’ll get outta your hair…”

“Well you chose wrong!”

“You said it matched the drapes!”

“I was lying to spare your feelings!”

“Hey, please, can I just- give you your waffles? Can I _please_ give you your waffles?” April is still ignored by the couple, which snaps her last nerve after four previous hours of waiting on assholes like this. She shoves the whole platter onto the table, forcing the couple back in surprise and knocking the lady’s purse off the edge.

They stare at her with shock. April gives a strained smile, saying, “Your _waffles,_ ma’am, sir.”

They nod, vaguely accepting of that. April huffs and strides away, not caring that she’ll probably get little to no tip from them. _Whatever,_ at least they’re not yelling anymore, and the only other people in the diner she has to worry about is an old woman minding her own business, sipping coffee while browsing gossip mags, and the bright spot in April’s shitty job life, sitting at the counter and blowing bubbles into her chocolate milk.

April can’t help the dopey smile she gets, meeting Sunita’s eyes as she comes around the counter. The other girl is just- _fantastic,_ and doesn’t mind at all that April works so much. Sunita is a gem, as a slime yokai or disguised human. April is so glad to have her around.

“Need a refill yet?” April asks, leaning on the counter. Sunita has been working her way through a plate of odds and ends April made for her specifically; whatever bits were leftover from making other people’s meals, piled onto a plate. Sunita loves trying new things, which April is happy to indulge her with.

“Soon,” Sunita replies, licking her lips of milk residue. She giggles, eyes sparkling with barely contained mirth. “Those two are so-o-o-o loud. Are all human diners like this?”

“New York ones definitely, dunno about other ones,” April replies, smirking wryly.

“Yokai diners are very similar,” Sunita tells her softly, giggling again. “There is as much about us that’s the same as there is that’s different. It’s so _fun.”_

“That’d be one way of putting things. Kinda sucks that mistreatment of minimum wage workers is universal.”

“True, true… That revolution we talked about in social today, though. Since no one seems very happy with the current system, perhaps we could give that a try?”

“You mean the French revolution?”

“Yeah!”

April hears the couple across the diner begin their arguing again. Damn, she’d been hoping the waffles would keep them occupied longer. “You know?” April says, grimace-smiling as voices rise nearby. “Sure, let’s do it. Guillotines, pistols, the whole bit. Down with capitalism and eat the rich and all that.”

“Humans consume their wealthy?” Sunita asks curiously.

Oops. “Uh, no, it’s just a saying-”

“ _O’Neil!”_ her boss bellows from the kitchen. “Take out the trash and stop flirting already! I’m not paying you for that!”

April’s face burns and she hides behind her hands, groaning. Sunita laughs at April’s embarrassment. “Go, go do your job,” Sunita encourages. “Here, a treat for the homestretch. You’re done in another hour.”

April uncovers her face and sees a bite of brownie with a sandwich pickle on it, held near her mouth on a fork. Sunita is smiling at her in that way that makes April’s stomach turn into butterflies, every time she sees it.

She accepts the bite, despite its odd ingredients, and gives Sunita a grateful look. April’s face is still a little warm, but her heart is warmer and she goes to take out the trash with a skip in her step.

Hauling the stinky kitchen garbage bag out the backdoor, April grunts as she drags it to the industrial dumpster. God, what do they _put_ in these things? Food waste has no right being this heavy. Huffing, April winds up to throw it over the lip of the dumpster, settling her stance and heaving the bag off the ground.

“Hey, April.”

April isn’t expecting the voice so close to her, so she overdoes the throw and launches the bag right over the bin. It hits the ground with a squelchy smack, tearing on the side.

The voice hums, judgemental. “That’ll be a bitch to clean up.”

April turns slowly, pointedly, to glare at her friend. Donnie stands there, goggles shining in the backlight of the diner. April silently reminds herself that they’ve known each other for a good chunk of their lives, and that she loves him down to her bones.

“Evening,” Donnie says genially.

“…You’re gonna help me pick up that trash bag,” April says slowly, “and then you are going to explain _why_ you’re bugging me during work. _Again.”_

“Technically, you called me over last time.”

“Yeah and I sure fucking regretted it afterwards.”

“And whose fault was the whole Albearto fiasco?”

“Donnie. Pick up the trash, and I will choose to remember how much I love you outside of this moment.”

“Jeez, okay, _fine.”_ Donnie sulks as he walks around the other side of the bin. April follows him, arms crossed, watching his extra metal limbs reach down and clean up the mess. Donnie gives her the most baleful look possible as he tosses the bag into the bin.

“There,” he says snidely, “I cleaned up your mess.”

April swings her hand out to smack his shoulder. His robot limbs react too quickly and lift him out of her reach, up onto the roof of the diner. She notices, then, that his bandanna and sleeves are darker than usual, making it hard to see him in the gloom of late evening.

“What the fuck do you want?” April asks, deeply annoyed. “I’m an hour away from getting off shift, and Sunita is waitin’ on me inside. We have _plans_ , so don’t go screwing things up for me right now.”

Donnie chuckles. “Finally getting serious? It’s about time. You’re both slower than glaciers.”

“Okay! What the hell, Donnie- you’re an asshole a lot of the time, but that’s low.” April judges the distance up the side of the building. Yeah, she could totally make that. “Either leave until you check your attitude, or I come up there and make you leave myself.”

“Oh, I’m _quaking,”_ Donnie snipes.

“I’m gonna count to five, Don. _One, two, three-”_

“Can’t a turtle ask his pseudo-adopted big sister for advice? Wow, April, and you said I could come to you whenever I really needed to.”

April stops short of replying sharp and nasty. She breathes through the anger, recalling that she did tell Donnie that, some years ago. “Fine,” she bites out, pushing down the outburst she’d been building to. “What do you need to ask me?”

“I need to figure out what to apply myself to,” Donnie says, leaning over the edge of the roof, idly spinning a glass tube with something glowing inside it. “There’s so many things I could do- I keep getting sidetracked every time I think of a new one. Out of our family and friend group, you’re statistically the most likely candidate to know what a good cause to champion is.”

April takes a second to digest that statement. “Is that ‘cause I’m a black girl?”

“That’s only two factors to the equation,” Donnie says, sniffing. “You’re by _far_ the one of us who’s had the most contact with everyday persons, been educated on a variety of schooling topics my own studies never focused on, _and…_ you are the only person I trust to not point me in a poor direction.”

April can just hear how hard the last part was to admit. She tilts her head a little, examining her friend-brother. Donnie is holding himself stiffly, like he’s got his hackles up at something. And his tone- it’s more derisive and haughty than usual. April doesn’t know what’s set him off so badly tonight, but clearly, it’s something big, at least for Donnie.

April opens her mouth to reply, but flinches as her boss hollers at her from inside. It’d be bad if he poked his head out the open door while Donnie is still here, plus while April is just standing idly by the trash.

“Can you do something about capitalism?” April asks dryly, heading for the door. “Then I wouldn’t have to work this stupid job just to save for college…”

“Capitalism, huh?” Donnie says thoughtfully, leaning so far out he resembles a gargoyle, hands and feet gripping the roof’s edge. “That _is_ the root cause for much of society’s misery.”

“You’re telling me,” April says, sighing. She waves at Donnie as she steps inside. “Seeya, dude. Stay outta trouble.”

“I will do no such thing,” says Donnie right as the door closes. April rolls her eyes. She checks her apron and uniform for any garbage residue, checking her shoes as well. None, despite the mishap. Satisfied, April starts to head back for the front of the diner. The ring of her phone stops her, however, reaching her ears at the connecting rooms of the breakroom and kitchen.

“Just answer it already,” says Phil, her eternally crabby boss. He aggressively shuts the waffle iron, making the batter hiss. “It’s been ringing over and over since you went out- givin’ me a damn headache.”

“Sorry,” April says, hurrying to get her phone out of her bag. She balks at the number of repeated calls from her friends- nearly a dozen and counting- and the eleventh call, from Raph this time, comes in as she’s holding her cell. April swipes to answer and puts it to her ear. “Raph? What’s-”

“ _SHE ANSWERED,”_ Raph shouts. April winces away from the volume, but still hears the distant reply of the other brothers.

“Raph, not in my _ear_ ,” April scolds.

“ _Oh, uh, sorry,”_ Raph says quickly. “ _I’m kinda worked up righ’ now.”_

“I guessed that.”

“ _Sorry. Uh, by chance, for no reason you should be worried about, have you maybe, potentially, possibly seen Donnie around tonight?”_

“Yeah? Why?”

“ _Oh, uhhhh, you see-”_ Raph breaks off and starts hissing at someone else, accompanied by insistent demands to hand over the phone to-

“ _April, hey, hi!”_ Leo says breathlessly. “ _So long story short Donnie’s split himself in two and there’s an evil version running around. You said you’ve seen him?”_

April has seen and done many weird things in her life. Many, many weird things. It still takes her a minute to process the string of words she just heard.

“Excuse me?” April says.

“ _He’s got like, way darker bandanna on, kinda smug an’ mean, basically normal Donnie but on caffeine_ and _computer withdrawal. This is all super awesome, I know, I want a clone of myself too- buuuut Donnie’s is evil so we need to squish ‘em back together.”_

“ _He’s not evil!”_ says Donnie’s voice in the background. “ _He’s just very morally ambiguous!”_

“ _EVIL!”_ declares Mikey.

“ _April? April, girl, dude, bruh, answer me please? You know where he’s headed at all? Helloooooo?”_

April is taking the moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, genuinely questioning the universe if everyone has to deal with kind of shit from younger siblings, or if it’s just her.

“I have no idea where he’s going,” she says finally, after gathering her wits again. “All he said was that he was lookin’ for something to apply his talents to, and I told him to fix capitalism.”

“ _Oh, ohhhh… alright, ‘kay.”_ Leo relays that to the others, and when someone speaks again the phone has changed hands to-

“ _April, hi!”_ Mikey cheers. “ _So, Lavender Donnie says other eviler Donnie is probably gonna do something insane.”_

“More insane than this situation right now?”

“ _Totally more insane than this. He’s got like, some kinda crystal of power or whatever, an’ he could use it in a buncha ways. According to Lav Don anyway. What? What’d you say-”_ Mikey talks to someone else, rushed and quick. He comes back to the phone a few seconds later. “ _Okay, Lavender here says we need to look for any large gatherings of people. Like a parade, or party, or festival…”_

April feels her stomach twist. “There’s a Horror Fest in a park, barely seven blocks from where we are. Me an’ Sunita were gonna go when I finished my shift; it’s supposed to be one of the biggest NYC meet ups for horror genre fans all year.”

“ _That’s inconveniently convenient,”_ Mikey gripes.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“ _Well, seeya later, gotta catch our bro-”_

Mikey hangs up on her. April stares at her phone for a moment, then sighs as she feels herself making a bad choice.

God damn pseudo-adopted younger brothers. If Donnie costs her yet another job, April will kick his ass and prank him into hell for a week. Leo and Mikey are always up for helping her with pranks; they’ll be _delighted_ to get back at their brother for all this.

April doesn’t have time to change- who knows what Donnie’s accomplished by now- so she grabs her backpack and rushes out front. As she passes Phil in the kitchen, she blurts, “Hi sorry gotta leave family emergency please don’t fire meeeeee!”

“O’Neil?” Phil says in confusion. Then, “O’Neil! Get back here!”

“Sunita!” April cries, bursting out through the swinging doors. “We gotta ditch, I’m so sorry, something’s come up.”

April’s friend stops blowing bubbles in her milk. “What’s happening?” Sunita asks, concerned.

“Donnie’s in trouble, or he _is_ the trouble. I think it’s both.”

Sunita’s concern becomes sympathetic determination. She nods firmly. “Then we’re totally ditching! Bye, mister Phil, your brownies are delicious!”

“ _Hey!”_ Phil exclaims, coming out from the kitchen. April has to ignore him grabbing Sunita’s hand as she jumps the counter and drags her friend towards the exit.

“I’m so, so sorry!” April calls over her shoulder. “It’s just- my kid brother needs my help!”

Sunita laughs wildly as they stumble out onto the street, clutching April’s hand still as they run. “Where’re we going?” Sunita asks.

“The party,” April replies. “Hopefully before Donnie can crash it.”

“Ooh! How _exciting.”_

God, April is so, so lucky to have Sunita in her life. No one else would laugh about April abandoning her job and dragging them off to save Donnie from himself. With that in mind, April leads them through the streets, intent on their goal in the near distance, shining bright against the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god bless every teen working in food services, you're braver than any US marine. also if there're any mistakes, i blame that i did the editing from my ipad and while on the go (GODZILLA TIME BBY!!)

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm on tumblr and would love to share more rottmnt nonsense with yall](https://onthespectrumwriting.tumblr.com/)


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